TOULONACY
by Corvid Angel
Summary: A strange bit of Time Travel adventure, featuring a trip to Toulon Prison, and a certain Captain Javert, before Hugo? Just for fun, first person narration. What else can I say?
1. Chapter 1

Javert time

Alright, I should have suspected trouble the minute I heard the thunder. The storm was a long way off, but I knew it was coming. A late summer storm, and it was already September. I just got back from a photo session at the museum-- we were doing Steampunk shots at the time, so I guess my masculine attire of vintage vest, boots-- you know the whole romantic Byronic hero look-- might have had something to do with setting the stage.

Unknown to me at the moment, I was about to take one of those unexpected time trips that had become part of my life ever since that unfortunate 12th century episode. Well, not so unfortunate-- one of my nastier ancestors, a sheriff of Nottingham no less, had conspired with demonic forces to entrap an unsuspecting descendant-- oh, its complicated. Something about making him immortal and some such crap. But on the plus side, I did come home with Guy of Gisbourne, who is still adjusting to his 21st century life.

But on this particular night, I was only moderately apprehensive about the storm. What a dork, you'd think Id know by now. So, I went upstairs to close the windows and then ZAP! A bolt of lightning and crash of thunder just as I stood at the open window-- BAM! I was on the floor, a nasty electric smell in the air and a buzzing in my ears.

"Oh shit, that stings!!"

I was knocked senseless for the moment-- well, more senseless than usual-- and tried to get up. It was dark, and it was pouring. On me, as I lay in the dirt. Now my housekeeping leaves a lot to be desired, but we do not have dirt floors in my house.

"Oh no. Not again!"

I rolled over and pushed myself up to a sitting position. I was in the middle of some courtyard, surrounded by stone walls--- and I realized I had made a time-jump again. TOTO!! Obviously, I wasnt in Kansas anymore. Which wasn't too strange since I started off in NJ

Why could I not just end up in a lovely garden on a sunny day? Why not a Roman villa, or French castle? Or relaxing in a boat on the Rhine?? Why was it always something dramatic??? The Joan of Arc episode, Gilles de Rais notwithstanding, came to mind. The rain came down in torrents, I was soaked and the dirt was rapidly turning to mud. However, there was no fire, smoke, screaming, signs of disaster-- outside of the lousy weather, at least it was quiet and I was alone.

"Well, you can sit here in the mud like a moron, or you can find your way back." There was a muted flash of lightning and after a few seconds a rumble. I turned my eyes skyward, squinting against the rain. "Come on! Hit me already and get me home! Fun is fun, God-- but this isn't it!!"

Trying to stand up in that slop felt like slapstick, since my feet were sliding and the mud was oozing all over. I managed to get to my feet and stood for a moment, hoping some of the slog on my clothes would wash off. Another dim flash of light, and I repeated my request for a quick exit.

In the back of my mind I couldnt figure what had made the launch-- what had caused a simple lethal bolt of gazillion volt lightning to hurl me off to parts unknown, when technically I ought to be home on the second floor landing, a nice little pile of charred cinders. Usually, some artifact from the past was the culprit-- a sword, a mirror, a piece of jewelry-- all I could imagine was that the vintage vest I was wearing might be responsible. Great, now I had to give up vintage clothing.

I thought I heard voices over the beat of the rain, and I looked around at my surroundings again. Big courtyard, high stone walls, steps, faint lights from the high windows, huge mucking portcullis-- closed-- and for a fleeting moment I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was back in Nottingham. No, I remembered that castle. This was different, but apparently a castle none the less. And then, like an idiot, I called out.

"Hello?"

Voices again, and then, out of the murky wet night two men in uniforms came rushing at me. Despite my unpleasant situation, I smiled like an idiot. I am a fan of Napoleonic history and these men were definitely French soldiers.

"Oh, now this is cool!" I exclaimed. Who does not dream of visiting a favorite historical past? The bayonets leveled at me were a bit disconcerting, but I raised hands slightly in assurance that I was friendly-- or at least unarmed. Now what? I couldnt speak French, and so, naturally, I spoke English loudly-- some bizarre concept as yet unexplained-- as if a foreign language can be understood if shouted. "Hello, I'm friendly. See? No weapons."

"Who are you? What are you doing here? And why are you shouting?"

Wait. That was distinctly English. The realization hit me and I smacked my forehead with a muddy palm. Dunce! Same thing had happened in 1400-whatever. The same bizarre-ness that can rocket one through time and space also over-comes the language barrier. Lucky for me, but I never said I understood how any of this works,

"It was an accident." I assured them. "I came here by mistake-- uh, where am I?"

"The prison, imbecile! Now move!"

I obliged in making for the portcullis in the hopes I could squeeze through the grate. Well, a few sizes and several dozen milk shakes ago, maybe--

"Not that way!" One of the soldiers grabbed my arm and tugged me off balance. Thanks to wet clothes and another flash of lightning, a few feminine features were evident.

"It's a woman!" the second gasped.

"Surprise." I smirked. "Can we get out of the rain? Its ruining my vest."

My gender having been discovered, I was gently pushed in the direction of a door. In a few moments I found myself in the comparatively dry and warm confines of a guard room and the subject of much speculation between my escorts and three more uniformed men.

"What's this?" was probably one of the kinder remarks.

"Gentlemen." I nodded as politely as possible. Having been through previous dislocations in time, I had learned a few things, First, never tell them about being from the future or how you got there-- you'll be labeled a lunatic and locked up, if not immediately torched at the stake. Secondly-- never argue. I had learn this ages ago whenever I was pulled over for driving too fast. Arguments with the police guarantee a ticket, agreement and pleasant conversations usually got you out of one. Thirdly, bide your time. Sooner or later-- which is a weird thing to say regarding time-tripping-- youll get back home. And last and most important, stay alive. "I am afraid there has been a mistake. I ended up in the courtyard of your, uh-- fort? ..by accident. I would be more than happy to be on my way if you could let me out."

This generated some laughter, and then I remembered one of the guards had said this place was a prison. Sure, who doesnt ask to be let out?

"I'm sure you realize I am not an inmate here. Do I look familiar?" Bite your tongue, idiot-- in the rain, muddy and soaked, maybe you do.

"I dont recognize the accent." another man spoke up. "Are you English?"

"Technically, no. Im from New--" oh like they know where New Jersey is! "America."

"Why are you dressed like that? Trying to help someone escape?"

"Of course not-- alright, I know this is a prison-- where? What prison?"

"Toulon." another grumbled.

I was dumbstruck-- images of Napoleon at Toulon came to mind.

"No shit! I mean, is Napoleon here? General Bonaparte? Wait-- when is here?" I still lacked the exact date, and hoped perhaps I hadnt missed the chance of meeting one of my heroes. When they looked at me blankly, I repeated myself.

"The time. What time is it?"

"10:45."

"No, I mean, what year!"

The fellows muttered amongst themselves of what to do. Thankfully, I was not appealing enough physically at the moment to make the snogging finals, and so they skipped through a roster of options and came to a mutual conclusion.

"Marbot, tell the Captain we have a visitor." someone suggested, and then said Marbot was on his way. "I think he'll be very interested in meeting you."

"Alright." I agreed happily enough. Now we were getting somewhere. I helped myself to a seat and shook out my sleeves. "I dont suppose any of you have a towel?"


	2. Chapter 2

Toulonacy Part Deux

I consider myself a thoughtful guest. I arrive on time, never barge in or interrupt people when they are busy, and never over stay my welcome. Time tripping is a bit different-- You always arrive on time, just not yours. You can't help landing in the middle of somebodys something, and your exit is never as prompt nor as graceful as you want it to be.

So I found myself sitting in a guard room, warming myself by the fire while 4 French soldiers sat staring at me. Not much conversation, really-- not sure if it was because I just seemed to fall out of the sky into a locked fortress, or my clothes, the way I spoke, or maybe the way I commandeered one of the clay pipes at the table and had a smoke. (years of historical reenacting have proven useful!)

My request for a towel was pointless, except I was handed somebodys shirt to mop the mud off my face. There was more danger of adding filth, from the looks of the thing, but I held my breath and made a few quick swipes. I wasn't going to the prom, but I wanted to look a bit less a derelict for an audience with the Captain.

Moments later Marbot returned-- he must have been a champ in track events at school. I planned to concoct some plausible tale as a ruse for their chief officer and be waltzing out the door in no time. Wrong!

"The captain says to bring the prisoner immediately."

Immediately? I could handle that-- but prisoner? Poor choice of words! It was obvious that since their commander called me prisoner, that was precisely what I was!

"On your feet, you!"

I was rudely yanked to my feet, dropping and breaking the pipe in the process. Great! Now Ill be in trouble for pipe-busting, too. Marbot came prepared, and I found myself wearing a pair of iron bracelets with a lovely matching chain, a souvenir of my visit to Toulon.

"Oh, now wait just a minute!" I argued as I was pushed toward the door. "Theres no need to get kinky, gentlemen-- not that I have anything against what two consenting adults-- hey, what kind of guy is this Captain?"

"Move!"

Another shove of encouragement and I was between two guards, who obviously knew where they were going, heading up a long corridor.

"Look, can you at least give me a minute! My hair's soaking wet, I'm a total wreck! Maybe tomorrow would be better? After a shower and change of clothes? And its awfully late to be bothering your Captain---"

"When the Captain says immediately, he means immediately!" I was assured. "And Javert never sleeps."

Javert? Where had I heard that name before? Javert--- Something about school. Wasn't there a kid named Javert in one of my classes?

Now, I could bolt at any moment-- having my wrists in chains would not prevent me from high-tailing it out of there-- I've even been known to walk and chew gum at the same time-- but there is something to be said for being in a dry building on a miserably rainy night. I was willing to take my chances with this Captain, and talk my way out, maybe play on sympathies and get a warm bed for the night-- not his, of course, but then again it was 18th century France.

We finally came to a little room, and one of my charming escorts pointed stiffly to a bench.

"Sit!"

"Just don't ask me to roll over or play dead." I snapped. He knocked on a large door, was told to enter, and did so, closing the door behind him. There was just enough chain between my bracelets to cross my arms, and so I sat like a grumpy adolescent outside the principal's office. He just better not call my parents..

A few silent moments passed and then the door opened again and we were motioned to enter. I was fussing with manacles now-- the chain snagged on a cuff and I couldnt get my arms uncrossed! Well, I wasnt moving fast enough and it was funny, I guess-- one guard pushed, the other pulled, and I squirmed my way into the office, complaining and giggling-- it doesn't pay to be ticklish when youre getting poked and pulled around. At least I did'nt fall on my face.

Mr. Captain Javert-Person had not witnessed the arrival of the sideshow-- he was across the room, standing with his back to us and reading some papers by the light of a lamp. A tall, slender man, with lots of lovely thick, dark hair, and wearing one of those uniforms that nicely defines a mans figure--- all romantically lit by the candles. And only one thought came to mind--- Nice ass!

"The prisoner, Captain."

"Stop pushing, will you?" I grumbled and looked my escort in the eye. "I have a name, you know!"

"And just what is that name?"

It was the Captain addressing me now-- a voice firm and yet as seductive and rich as chocolate-- and I LOVE chocolate!

He had turned and was approaching a long table that separated us, a slow sort of swagger that got my attention immediately along with the fit of his britches. One look was all it took--- my jaw dropped, my eyes bugged, my knees wobbled and my heart skipped at least 3 beats. I couldnt help blurting.

"Tony Perkins!!"

"Perkins? Are you English, Mlle Perkins?"

Javert! Of course-- it all made some sort of twisted sense now! Javert-- Victor Hugo-- Les Miserables--- Tony Perkins-- school!! That horribly huge mucking book I never read for English-- thanks to Cliffs Notes, I at least got a C on the quiz. Lost in my private musings, I suddenly noticed those dark delicious eyes of his get darker, black brows frowning-- for a moment the man's handsome face clouded over.

"Are you English?" he repeated, tensing his jaw.

"Humuna, humuna, humana--" Yes, I actually do say humuna-humuna when I stammer.

"Stop babbling, woman. I asked you a question."

"Yes--" Indeed yes, he asked mewhat was it? "No! I'm not English-- I'm American." I hastily replied. "And I'm not Tony Perkins-- you-- " Shut up, idiot! You're in enough trouble already! " don't know me. "Quick save!

"Your name?"

"Kate-- Kathleen." Dont give him a real last name-- it's too English. "Gisbourne." Well, it was Norman, at least.

Javert set his papers on the desk, and flipped up the tails of his coat as he sat down. I LOVE that move! He continued to study the pages before him, not bothering to look up.

"Then who is this person you name? An accomplice?"

Oh, wouldnt that be lame? Blurting out the name of a co-conspirator-- if I had any-- without even being tortured first My delay in replying caused him to look up, annoyed.

"Are you deaf, mademoiselle? Must I ask every question twice?"

"Yes-- I mean, no, certainly not." Not that I would mind. I could listen to that voice read me the phone book.. "It's just someone you have an amazine resemblance to."

"How unfortunate."

For some reason, my guards found the exchange humorous, but did their best to conceal it. Their chief looked at them grimly.

"Outside."

The pair straightened up, released me, and left the room as directed, closing the door.

"Thank you! They were really getting annoying, and just a little too grabby, if you ask me."

"You've yet to answer everything I have asked you. How is it you come, dressed in these clothes?"

Oh, about a dozen snappy come-backs filled my head, but I was getting the impression this Javert had no sense of humor. Not a problem, as far as I was concerned, he was certainly eye candy enough.

"We-- my friends and I-- were in a play." That was as close to the truth as I was willing to get for now.

"I see. "He sat back in his chair, forgetting his papers for the moment, and eyed me carefully. "And were you playing the Fool?"

There was a glint in his eye just then-- and just a smidgen of a smile teasing the corner of his lips. If I wasnt such a mess, I would have taken a dive for him just then-- right across the table and laid a big sloppy kiss on that Face of Authority-- but all I had going for me was the sloppy part, at that point. (Thats one of the dangers of time travel-- you know you're gonna get sucked out of there at some point, so you tend to make those impulsive 'I'll-never-have-this-chance-again, and you-can't-catch-me sorta moves.) I guess that image caught in my head a moment, and I smiled, thinking of me, Javert, his chair, all flying to the floor---

"I definitely feel like a fool."

"Mademosielle, I am intrigued."

"Oh, so am I."

"How is it that you have managed to pass guards, a locked gate and end up in our courtyard?"

Oh, that bit. Yeh, I had kinda forgotten. Right along with Hugo's book being a work of fiction, and that the delicious man in the tight uniform technically did not exist. Whoa, this trip was getting weird

"I'm afraid, Captain, thats a little more difficult to explain."

He leaned forward on the table--- putting those lips in closer range, completely oblivious to the risk he was taking. Another scrutinizing glance, as he steepled his fingers.

"Difficult or not, I suggest you try."


	3. Chapter 3

Toulonacy 3

Later that same nightmare

Dilemma-- with a capital D.

So far, within the expanse of one hour, I had been zapped by lightning, dropped, soaked, muddied, dragged, shoved, manacled, yanked, pushed, poked and now, last but not least-- interrogated! And I didn't even have to pay for a gym membership. That the last bit was being conducted by a figment of my imagination-- or Victor Hugo's imagination-- just didn't wash with my usual time-dislocation experience. Unless of course, such a man as Javert did exist and served as chief of the guards at Toulon Prison once upon a time.

The fact that (in my humble opinion) Captain Javert was what I would term HOT hardly enters into it. Okay, I lied. It entered in it BIG TIME.

Javert watched me from the top of his eyes, silently over his spidery fingers. One thing for sure-- besides that impulsive kiss being out of the question (he'd probably faint)-- whatever explanation I gave, it had to be good. (In the future, I must remember not to confuse 'good' with 'big') First, the obligatory play for time.

"I hardly know where to begin." That much was on the money. I fussed mindlessly with my soggy attire, and hair. The drowned rat look was not going to score points with anyone. I found myself slowly pacing the length of the table-- maybe I'd run into an idea along the way. "I assure you, sir. Ending up here, in your prison-- in your very office-- was never my intention. It was the furthest thing from my mind, and just hours ago." Okay, the play for time was playing out.

"Just hours ago?"

"Yes-- just hours ago---" At least he wasnt taking notes. "I was with friends, and we were laughing-- celebrating--"

"This play you spoke of?"

"Yes, thats right-- we had just concluded the final performance and were celebrating.. as actors do, you know."

"I have no great respect for acting troupes, beyond the more classical, of course."

"Well, we're not professionals, certainly. Just some friends. And unaccustomed to drinking as I am, I'm...I;m afraid I overindulged."

"Unaccustomed to lying, you mean. You havent had a drop."

Ooooooh, tough audience. Leave it to me to end up with Sherlock Holmes--- no, wait-- thats another author entirely. I looked at him, hurt

"You dont believe me?"

"I have heard drunkards swear they haven't touched a bottle. This is the first time I have heard a woman boast about being drunk. I believe we would smell it, Mademoiselle, on your breath or your clothing, despite the soaking you've had."

"Oh, you are good." I raised a manacled hand-- that is to say both, and pointed at him with a grin. "Well, you see---" back to pacing and looking remorseful. "I only said that to you it pains me to admit---" That I am a complete idiot, awed by your gorgeous face, your air of authority, your trousers-- and unable to tell a decent lie.

"Continue."

"That I was-- drugged!" Good one! I turned and leaned on the desk for emphasis, the chain making a curious though not unpleasant foley sorta noise from a movie. "I am ashamed to admit, sir, that one of my friends--"

"A fellow actor, in this group you mentioned."

"Yes. Someone I trusted. He slipped me a mickey!"

Eyebrows raised, and hands lowered to the desk now.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Put some sort of drug in my drink." I quickly translated.

"The fiend." Javert wasnt buying a word of this, as evidenced in his sarcastic tone, but I got the impression at least he was amused---- or simply willing to give me enough rope to hang myself. "Whatever would possess your friend to do such a thing?"

"Oh, does one ever know?? Back to pacing now, a little hand wringing, more remorse. "Perhaps he was forced to--"

"Bribed?"

"Yes, that's good. Perhaps bribery, perhaps jealousy--" Even Javert couldn't hide his amusement. A lovely little crooked smirk crossed his face, but I was indignant. "I assure you sir, not all of our amateur players are of the same quality. Besides, I dry off and clean up very nicely, thank you very much! No-- no, it wasnt any of those reasons." Lucky for me he was curious enough, entertained enough, or just plain bored enough to keep listening. "Though I can't remember some of it very clearly."

"I'm not surprised."

"Somehow, there were these men."

"Of course."

"I was taken..someplace." and where ever it was, it wasn't any closer to the end of the story, plopped in prison mud. Ewww. Prison mud. I looked at my clothes, wondering now what sort of stains these REALLY were. "A farm-- a field-- and there was this. ...balloon-- "How much Javert knew about the Montgolfier brothers I couldn't guess..

"And you were taken aloft, to be dropped in our yard?"

"Well, they were loosing altitude in the storm."

"Dropped from the sky, and not a mark. Impressive."

"They'd lost a lot of altitude-- and by that time, I was just so much ballast."

Javert put a fist to his mouth suddenly and coughed, though I coulda swore it was almost a laugh. He cleared his throat and then straightened his papers.

"So much ballast, indeed."

He was on his feet so fast it scared the heck out of me.

"Do you think me a fool??" Whoa-- SOMEBODY had hit the Port after dinner! "You must be drunk, mademoiselle, to think anyone would believe such an absurd story!" I winced. That face was so totally within lip reach-- but now was definitely not the time--- or was it? "I want the truth, woman-- unless you wish to spend the night in a cell, as an English agent-- a spy?"

"Don't yell at me!" Okay, yeh, totally lame. Maybe the balloon bit was a little much. "What am I suppose to say??"

"The truth!"

"You can't handle the truth!" What the hell was I doing?? Practically nose to nose and I'm doing movie quotes?? This did not sit well with monsieur Captain at all! Those big eyes got way bigger.

"Mademoiselle, you will mind your tongue or----"

"Oh ,what the hell!!"

(This is one of those wacky impulse moves mentioned earlier.)

Yeh, I grabbed him-- and I promise you, this would NEVER happen in normal life--- but this was too freakin' good to pass up! I latched onto his coat with both hands, practically yanked him off his feet, and planted a big one right on that luscious mouth--- which in itself would be 'assaulting an officer' enough-- but hell, if I was gonna be tossed in a cell, I was gonna damn well make it worthwhile!!

The table lurched, and the Captain made a valiant effort to push me off-- which naturally only made it more interesting from my point of view. He tried to say something, I think. Protest? Scream? I thought he was gonna haul off and punch me, that's for sure, but he pounded the table instead, and finally moaned capitulation. There-- Done!

I let go, he flew backwards, knocked over his chair-- I never did that before-- well, maybe once--- probably never would again, but it felt great to get that out of my system! And the look on his face? Priceless!

"Guard!!"

I opened the door for them and practically passed them on the way out. Javert wiped his mouth, smoothed his clothes and straightened his hair.

"Take her away! Lock her in D!"

Ah, D for Dilemma! Not mine, not anymore!

"Come on, boys. Lock me up, throw away the key, I've been bad. Bet there isn't even a word for it in your criminal code."

Take this as a prime example of what not to do, and a warning! Listen to what they say on Star Trek. Don't mess with the native wildlife, it's libel to mess back. And sooner than you think..


	4. Chapter 4

Toulonacy the 4th

Maybe Id been a bit hasty.

Not in following the impulse to take Captain Javert by surprise-- that I could deal with---- but by encouraging the guards to lock me away and lose the key.. because they pretty much did.

My room at The Toulon Hilton left something to be desired. It was probably called D because the prison Drainage system obviously ran through that hall. My room had running water, of course--- running down the wall, constantly! The lighting was truly geared for energy conservation-- as in there was none. And it featured the latest ecologically friendly innovations, like a hole in the wall over my head providing the air conditioning, ventilation and occasional rain spray, like I was produce in the market. And for entertainment? Rats, playing 24/7, no charge.

"No one comes down here anymore-- falling apart-- too dangerous." my helpful escort explained.

Clang-- and then-- slam. Locked in, and corridor door closed.

All too reminiscent of my first night in Nottingham.

I was wet, cranky, cold, and tired-- but no way was I going to take a chance sitting on that muck-ridden floor to enjoy my despair!! Felt like soggy shag carpeting, without the carpet. I rubbed my arms and hopped around a bit to get warm.

"Well, hope you're proud of yourself." I grumbled. "Maybe if you had'nt been so spontaneous."

And sadly, the kiss that landed me in the lock-up wasn't so fantastic after all. Like kissing a wall-- all one-sided, and what's the fun when the recipient doesn't reciprocate? Alright, so I didnt look my best-- hair all wet and stringy, mud all over, and now I'm a spy. And what about the Captain? Poor thing was probably gargling with antiseptic by then-- or in shock. Maybe Javert just a cold fish. Or gay?

"Oh shit! I never thought of that! What an idiot! You of ALL people!! Back home in 09 I woulda known better-- half the people I knew-"

Geez, major social blunder! "Your loose lips just sank the ship!" And I seriously doubted I'd have the chance to apologize.

"Alright, erase that-- can't think of the bad stuff, even when surrounded by it." I ruffled my hair to dry it-- a real pain with the manacles-- and tried wringing out my shirt and vest.

Then?

Okay-- no getting around it-- the accommodations were miserable!! So what do you do in a hopeless situation?

Showtunes!

Some people might scream, some might cry, few would launch into song. The acoustics weren't too bad, so I tried a few tunes, from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang to Gilbert and Sullivan. I was convinced that down at the butt end of Toulon Prison no one could hear me anyway. It kept reality away for awhile, and just maybe I would sing my way home.

I mean, they really wouldn't leave me down there and forget about me, would they?

Or would they??

I rounded off my concert with some Python favorites and knew it was time to crash. But not on that floor! I got my legs through the bars, hooked over a cross piece, and hung myself up to nap. Arms were a problem because of the chain, and the result was mighty uncomfortable, but I actually managed to snooze.

Deeply, apparently.

In fact I didnt wake up until something hit me in the shins.

"What---!"

I lurched awake and fell flat on my back--- legs still hanging over the bar. AWKWARD!!

Outside the cell, a soldier held a lantern-- and a second, taller figure was glaring down at me.

Javert.

"Oh no." I mumbled, and covered my face with both hands. There was no graceful way to recover my dignity--- as if I had any to start with Maybe they'd just go away

"Just so much ballast." The Captain sighed.

He moved on with a slow steady gait--- nightly rounds, I guess. When I peeked, the light had faded. Then I heard a snap of fingers, and the hurried step of someone returning.

"For the love of Mike."

I groaned, twisted and got myself up on one elbow before the soldier got there. Couldn't quite get my legs loose but he helped push them a bit, out of pity perhaps. And then he shoved a folded blanket through the bars. Hardly had it in my hands and he was gone.

No chance to thank him before the door closed again and I was left in the dark.

But now I had a blanket! And it didnt stink!

So sad, the odd little things that make us happy in prison..

I fluffed it open, wrapped myself in it and tried to find someplace dry and out of the draft to sleep. I was done with the monkey bar routine.

Back home, they must have figured out what happened to me by ? Gizzy wouldn't be too happy, but at least he understood these occasional shifts were out of my control. Fortunately, he got to sit this one out-- but was probably pacing, grumbling and breaking things. And I wasn't very comfortable leaving him on his own for any length of time, with his being medieval and all.

I drifted off, confident that tomorrow would be a better day. If I was still in the 18th century in the morning, I would behave with a bit more tact and decorumand make a break for it the first chance I got.


	5. Chapter 5

Toulonacy 5

Once upon a time, I was a morning person. I earned the wrath of many a friend that way, and could never figure out why they were always so grumpy.

One night in Toulon cleared that up for me.

I had slept propped in a corner, buried in my blanket, and woke up with a brain full of headache, a mouth full of flannel and body full of pain. And some idiot with a death wish was banging on my cage.

"Hey! Wake up, you!"

Words failed me at first. I wanted to stay balled up where I was and disappear. And what was this loser selling, anyway?

"Go away. Have some pity, for God's sake and let me die in peace."

A key rattled in the lock, and I looked up with bleary eyes. Great, another pair of soldiers, or was it the same pair? If it was, they had switched mustaches.

"Alright, alright, I'm up!"

I held up my hands in surrender, just to avoid getting yanked around again. I coughed, I wheezed, I groaned like some poorly resurrected corpse, and got myself into a standing position. Good thing there were no mirrors-- because 'wall hair' had to be worse than 'pillow head.' I wouldn't give up my blanket just yet, and grimaced at the new arrivals.

"Please say youre taking me to the guillotine." The way I felt, it would be a mercv.

"You're not so lucky. The Captain wants to see you."

That was enough to shock me awake.

"Javert? Wants to see me?" After last night, this could not be good. "Do you guys have flogging here?"

No time to chat, off we went, back to that office again, and me looking and feeling worse than the night before. Where was the exit ramp to home? What did he want now? Could things get any worse??

----NEVER ask that question again---

The Captain was informed of my arrival and I was ushered in, a straggly, shivering, shamefaced shadow of my former self. I was deposited on a bench--- a reasonably safe distance away from the table this time-- and to my surprise, the guards were immediately excused.

Javert looked stunning, damn him.

Charming and handsome in his uniform, shiny boots, perfect hair, all clean, sharp and polished, sitting at his breakfast, spread out on the table, smelling fabulous, hot and steamy---- Just so were clear, that was BREAKFAST, not Javert.

My stomach grumbled and I shuffled my feet to cover the noise.

"I trust you had a quiet night?" he inquired rather officiously between bites of toast and marmalade.

"Quiet. Thats a good word for it. And thanks for the blanket."

Very slight nod of acknowledgment.

"You understand, I will not tolerant insolence."

I suspected insolence meant being jumped and forcibly snogged--- more or less. No offense to Javert, but I was more interested in his coffee and sausages this morning---- sorta.

"About that insolence thing. I want to apologize." Well, yes and no. I was sorry for being punished, sure, but was willing to give the original offense another go at some more agreeable point--- as long as it didn't land me in hot water again. Another barely visible nod.

"And I have yet to get any satisfaction from you."

"Wha-- huh??"

"You haven't been prompt or truthful in answering my questions, and I'm sure you realize, it would be easier for you to cooperate. Unless you prefer another night in the cells?"

I was distracted--- the combination of Javert and the way he stirred his coffee was.....provocative. --Stop it, stop it-- mind out of the gutter-- theres no place like home, theres no place like home--

"Captain, its really..very difficult."

"You mentioned that last night, right before your tale of kidnapping and balloons." He wiped his mouth with his serviette and seemed infinitely more concerned with his meal than with me. Ooooh, the way he sipped from a china cup.... "Whatever you are, you might be relieved to know I don't think youre a spy."

Thank you, Jesus!

"I'm not? I mean, you don't?"

"Obviously not. It is essential that any secret operative be completely mundane, ideally a persom no one would suspect or even notice. An individual who blends perfectly with his surroundings, and his prey. You, mademoiselle, do not blend in with anything."

It was a relief to hear I was off that particular hook-- but at the moment I woulda killed for a croissant.

He paused, looked up from the table--- which held more food than he could ever eat--- and looked at me all wide eyed and innocent.

"You must be hungry."

"Yes, I am!"

He nodded, and then went right back to eating!!

The stinker!!

Not so much as, 'here, have a raisin'! My stomach protested again and I squirmed uncomfortably. It was shock enough that he even wanted to see after last evening-- but now I knew why! Torture-- to get even!!

"Though, I am curious. Where is it that you come from, that a woman would have such complete disregard for authority?" Back to the insolence thing again

"I said I was sorry." Sheesh, what a kindergarten defense!

"Apologies do not explain it. You do realize, of course, you could be tried, and imprisoned for assaulting a gentleman. Much worse, I'm afraid, as that gentleman is an Officer of the French Republic."

Just my luck-- he was an officer AND a gentleman. No he wasn't! A gentleman would at least offer me his buns-- BREAKFAST buns!

"I really do apologize." I tried my best to sound like I wasnt just weaseling for a hand out. Some class, a little Dickens.... "And I assure you, sir, I have never before behaved in such an impulsive manner-- " Okay, so I was pouring it on a little thick, but those crepes were worth it. "It was just an unfortunate combination of stress, confusion, and---"

He had looked up just then. And popped a perfect strawberry into his perfect mouth, while I sat there, a perfect idiot. Suddenly I had a new respect for him. In addition to powers of observation and ability to reason quickly--- evidenced at out first meeting-- he was much more than a pretty face. There was alot going on behind that attractive façade.

And it must be stopped.


	6. Chapter 6

Toulonacy 6

Chronological dislocation. Try explaining THAT one to the chief of the guards at any prison. 'Sorry, I'm not supposed to be here-- its not my time.' Javert wanted the truth, and believe it or not, I really wanted to tell him-- the truth about a coupla things, in fact. He had the upper hand at the moment, and I needed to change that. Now.

"Continue."

Okey dokey This was going to be interesting-- a SERIOUS play for time-- get the attention away from the truth. And the crepes. And trousers.

My delay in a compliance caught the cold, hard gaze of Javert. I put a hand to my forehead-- manacled, of course-- gave a slight gasp-- then BLOP! I keeled over in a swan dive, pretending to faint, and whackied my head on the floor-- hows that for realism?

Pause.

Chair pushes back, scrapes wood, approaching boot steps.

I didn't move, and tried not to laugh. ---Just play dead-- and though Monsieur Captain came to investigate, he didn't touch me. Except with the side his boot, to nudge my feet.

"Up, woman! No more games!"

Again, pause.

"Mademoiselle?"

Flat line. Deserved an Oscar. Stellar.

Creak of leather, scent of boot polish, lock of my hair flicked aside. Leather uncreaks.

"Gerard!"

Clomp, clomp, clomp-- orderly arrives from next room.

"Send in the guards. Get the surgeon."

Clomp, clomp, clomp-- orderly leaves. Voice outside--

"You two, the Captain wants you--"

Clompclompclompclomp! Laurel and Hardy arrive.

"Put her there."

You have no idea what it took to pull this off. Dead weight, two uncoordinated clowns lift me up-- I'm ticklish-- and not a peep. Flump. How many prisons have a fainting couch in their wardens office? Well, okay, not this one either. Maybe a cushioned bench.

The soldiers didn't ask. It wasn't their place. Their Captain was in charge-- and therefore had every right to have an unconscious derelict female in chains on his office floor. Maybe this was nothing new

Javert returns to the table, stirs coffee, sips. Guards leave. I am in danger of genuinely falling asleep, but fight the urge and remain limp and unresponsive.. Totally wrong impression for a first date-- or was it second? After the previous evening, Javert must have been relieved.

Clamor clamor-- the surgeon arrives.

"Good morning, Laroche." The Captain is calm, greets the physician, sets china cup down with slight 'ting'-- I almost smile.

"Good morning, Captain. My, what have we here?"

"Arrived last night." ---could just imagine what Laroche might be thinking-- "Appeared out of nowhere in the courtyard, in the middle of the storm."

"A woman?"

"Well spotted. I see your years of medical training were not wasted. She was a bit of trouble on interrogation, and so spent the night in a cell-- in D, away from the rest of the population."

Someone checked my pulse-- doctor no doubt-- pushing the iron cuff out of the way.

"Manacles? Is she dangerous?"

"Not at the moment." I could hear a smirk in that velvet voice. "She was sitting there, about to explain herself and then fainted."

And, to my lasting shame, my stomach yowled-- loudly. If I wasnt playing dead, I would have been mortified--- I was anyway. Fingers at my neck, checking pulse again.

"Well, I'm not surprised. She's freezing, and in need of nourishment, obviously. Did she appear weak last night?"

I'm sure Javert and I were both thinking the same thing just then.

"Not a bit."

"Then this is what a night in a cell can do to a woman. Captain, I have expressed my concern before about the inability of the weaker sex to cope with prison conditions. And you know nothing about her?"

"A name, and just that her sudden appearance here was most unorthodox. She was not forthcoming with anything else." Cool as a cobra, that Javert. At least Dr. Laroche had some sympathy--

"I mean, for all we know, she could be with child!"

What the---- I almost blew it--- Maybe I needed to lose a few pounds, but geez! ---No, no-- remain calm. You've passed out, remember?--- Didn't help when I thought I heard Javert snicker.

"I hardly think that would be possible."

"And why is she dressed like this?"

"Theatrical production, she claims. For which reason I wonder if she is not playing Ophelia at the moment."

"Captain, please! She is most certainly in a swoon!"

"You are the doctor, of course."

"Well, this will not do at all! Have you made inquiries locally-- you said she gave you a name?"

"Men were dispatched at first light. If she has family or friends, or has been missed, they will find out. I rather think I know my business, Laroche."

"Yes, of course, Captain Javert. I didnt mean to suggest--"

"But you did. I would appreciate instead a suggestion as to what to do with her now."

"She needs dry clothes, a warm bath, and something substantial to eat, to begin with." Oh, I liked that sound of that..

"May I remind you, until she provides me with a plausible explanation, she is to be treated as a questionable party, and for the time being, under arrest."

"Well, you cant send her back to a cell! I refuse to take responsibility for any further harm she may come to".

"You wont have to. I will."

I never liked reality TV-- hell, I never cared for reality-- but this was good! Javert was all business, Laroche, all heart.

"And these manacles need to be removed as well."

I could picture the frown on Javert's kisser just then, and heard him sigh.

"Do you plan to remove her to the infirmary?"

"Certainly not! A ward full of convicts and possible infection is no place for her."

Another heavy sigh from Javert.

"Very well. You may use my quarters for the time being. Guards will remain posted without. Do what you must to revive her, but I promise you, Laroche, if she does not provide me with what I want on my return, you will both find yourselves in a cell."

More boot steps, hard and determined, and Captain Javert was gone. I sighed, and felt ready to recover.


	7. Chapter 7

Toulonacy 7

"Oh!" I opened my eyes. Standing over me, the figure of Dr. Laroche-- though I wasnt supposed to know. "Where am I-- who are you?"

"Dr. Rene Laroche." Nice looking man, maybe 40, balding-- looked like somebody's dad. "Don't upset yourself. You had a faint. You are in Captain Javert's private office."

"Captain Javert!" --- nice mix of fear and surprise there.

"It's alright, he's gone-- no more questions for now. My, you've quite a bump on your head."

Suffering for ones art, I suppose. But effective-- and painful.

I really wasnt keen on lying my way around Toulon-- but the prime directive of stay alive seemed to require it. I couldn't tell anyone-- especially Javert--- how I got there-- since I didn't know how time jumps work, myself. Still, I had a real urge to come clean with him--- in more ways than one..

Laroche would follow up with his prescription. The Captain's orderly Gerard and a few others prepared a nice hot bath for me--- in Javert's own tin tub and his very own bedroom. Such a coo! I took the opportunity to snack on some of the breakfast bits that he hadn't touched. Well, it would be a sin to waste all that food!

Oh, it was perfect! Nice warm fire, comfortable bath, and clean clothes from the doctor's own wardrobe. Thank heavens his wife was a several sizes larger than me, or I'd be forced to wear some fashionably girly clothes--- not designed for a quick get away.

But what was the rush? I could let my clothes dry, clean up, wash the mud out of my hair and teeth-- all in the most comfortable and private room in the place. This was living!

Laroche left me to recuperate, alone in the Captain's bedchamber. Now, outside of a medicine chest, you could tell a lot about a person from their sleeping arrangements.

"Definitely a bachelor's place." I nodded. Browns, blacks, grays, a touch of color in his coverlets-- some russets and greens. Dark formal colors which I liked-- unpretentious over all. The bed was a traditional canopy style-- almost like a marquis tent. The curtains were probably very much in use, to keep warm on cold nights inside stone walls. Lonely nights. Wow, what a Spartan. Wash sink, shaving stand, separate water closet which I was forced to use since I knew the nearest flush toilet was in another time zone... Tall wooden cupboard, doubtless full of uniforms, starched white shirts, waistcoats, 10 pairs of the same boots, bunny slippers-- but I didn't peek. There was one painting in the room, over the fireplace, depicting the Port of Toulon. Officer's chest, traveling bar-- Hey, I'm an antique nut-- I LOVE old stuff and all this old stuff was new, technically. The details and accessories were wonderful to examine! There was a plain black dressing screen, and a chevalier mirror, of course-- to check that perfect spit-and-polish look every morning.

Everything was neat, orderly and anal retentive.

I'd never used a tin tub before, but in the movies they look so quaint and romantic--- a bit tough on the butt at first. Well, I was there for a bath, not an epic drama, and as the water was steamy and inviting-- getting a comfortable slouch, soaking with the water up to my neck took no time at all.

Yeh, okay, there was something a bit scandalous about it-- like I was stealing.

And no-- I didn't steal anything-- lying was bad enough-- and YES I did feel bad about lying! Even though anything swiped from the 18th century would fetch a far price in '09, I couldn't and wouldn't dream of it. Besides, beating the rap for stealing a kiss was tough enough..

The soap left a bit to be desired-- but scented lavender? No shampoo or conditioner-- I doused myself and relaxed all those achey muscles.

"I could get used to this!"

When I was squeaky clean, I just soaked. It was heaven!

I was almost dozing off when I heard voices in the other room. Dr. Laroche-- and Javert!

He wouldn't!!

Boot steps approached the door-- that same slow swagger. He'd knock. He'd have to! He'd know not to barge in. Crap, I didn't lock it!

He COULDN'T!!

The click of a latch--

HE DID!!!

I squeaked, drew up my knees and hid behind them.

"Go away! Away, away!"

Javert entered, closed the door, crossed his arms and leaned back.

"What are you doing??" I demanded.

Horrified, embarrassed, surprised--- titillated? Pick one, there were all there. ME! A shrinking violet? Damn straight-- a sneak attack on my terms was one thing-- but this was totally--- interesting.

"I would apologize, mademoiselle, but these are my quarters."

"I know, I'll leave, I promise-- just go away and you can have your quarters back!"

I was being such a dweeb. And that was the worst part! But even I was'nt going to leap out of the tub and chase him around the room at the moment. Last night was one thing---

"Uncomfortable, isnt it?"

I knew he didn't mean the tub and nodded vigorously.

"I understand completely." he agreed.

"Alright, alright, alright!! It was wrong! I apologized! I caved to an impulse! I've learned my lesson! I will never, ever take such a liberty again, I swear!"

And then-- he grinned. A tight little smirk. And he nodded.

"Now please, shoo!" I flicked a tiny indignant splash his way which didn't even clear the tub. "Shoo! Or I'll scream!"

"I expect you will. No doubt everyone will hear, and as I am the highest ranking officer in Toulon, no one will come."

I kept the snide replies to myself.

AND THEN HE LOCKED THE FRIKKIN DOOR!!

"And now, mademoiselle, we have some business to address."


	8. Chapter 8

Toulonacy 8

Javert tucked the key into the facing of his cuff and crossed his arms again.

"Captain!" Oh, I was good at playing outrage-- especially now, since I was. "You're not serious!" and me without a weapon! Ah-- but I had a sponge! "Get out now, or I swear---"

"A lady never swears, but I suppose you aren't troubled with such conventions. I should observe that you only have one sponge, and I have a whole afternoon."

Oooh, what a smug smart-ass!--Damn him! And he was still HOT-- double damn! I'd save the sponge, get it really soaked and thwack him when he didn't expect it! And cringing-behind-knees was for the birds- not my style, but the my inner-prude took over. He had the upper hand now, and knew it-- I was blown up by my own bomb-- unheard of!! I set myself up-- and that REALLY cheesed me off!!

"Will you please leave me alone?"

"Eventually."

And then those trousers started stalking across the room. -- Hey, I was sitting in the tub on the floor-- my point of view was low!--- The idea of unexpected attention-- well, the very nature of getting uanked through time was unexpected-- but the thought of Javert possibly in a romantic mood---- No! Jumping THAT gun started this mess!!

He walked slow and steady up to the tub-- and then right past it! Talk about a blow to the ego.

"Well? What do you want?" if it wasn't trouble.

"You know what I want. The truth."

Oh, not that again! Gimme a break!!--- I oughta just jump you, you strutting, stuffed shirt of a candy-ass crossing guard wannabe--- just to shut you up---- or make you run for cover.

"Look, Captain. I come from someplace very far away-- a distance you wouldnt understand."

"Try making sense. That would help."

He was behind me now--- I saw him in the mirror--- pacing casually back and forth like he was waiting for his date to come out of a restroom. And not once looking in my direction-- okay, so maybe once..

"I'm a citizen of the United State of America, you French--- ."---- No need to be rude, he was rude enough for both of us. "--- Captain."

"I have met some of your countrymen, but you are decidedly different. You, mademoiselle, have not even the most rudimentary manners, no respect for authority, behave like a miscreant and if I had not seen you in the bath, would have doubted you were a woman altogether."

Chivalry was not only dead, it was rotten.

"You haven't seen a thing." I tossed the sponge in the tub with a splash. What was the use? Tell him the REAL truth ? Lunatic asylum, here I come. And those accommodations would be worse than Toulon.

He paused by the fire, where my clothes were drying, and then I saw him glance at the shaving stand.

CRAP!! Thats where I put the stuff from my pockets!

"Dont touch that!!"

I spun around, keeping the back of the bath between us-- oh, like it mattered at this point. He picked up something and cocked his head at me.

"What's this?"

"THAT is none of your business!"

Last straw, big time! I grabbed for a flannel towel, and then jumped out of the tub while wrapping it around me.

"Of all the rude, thoughtless, pigheaded-- " I dont remember the exact litany, but there was quite colorful. Laroche had provided a robe, and I grabbed that off the bed, punched my arms into the sleeves, fastened it and marched up to him. In his hand, a slightly mangled photograph.

"Gimme that!" I grabbed it away--- he just raised eyebrows at me. "Don't you get it? I'm not supposed to be here, at all-- I wasn't looking for Toulon, the prison, or you-- Hell, I wasn't even looking for France!! Look! Look at my clothes-- well, except the vest-- have you seen clothes like that before? Made that way, those materials?" I held up my jeans. "And look at this! Woohoo-- it's a zipper. A ZIPPER!! Ever see one? I think not!"

Sure, I was fuming, but there was a method to my madness. I had to set the stage before I could approach the 200 year shift thingie.

"Where I come from, we read about people like you in books---" I jabbed him in the chest with a finger ---- he was as stiff as stone. "JUST like you-- its called fiction, and technically YOU don't actually exist, and I haven;t even been born yet!"

Oh, good. Real good. That cleared things up----- NOT.

He opened his mouth but I wouldnt give him chance to speak.

"Yeh, okay, I have no manners, no respect for authority-- I'm from New Jersey, damn it!! The Sopranos live next door! Find it on a map, but you still won't understand!" I turned to get the rest of the borrowed clothes but spun back. "And another thing--- you're a lousy kisser!! Who would guess, with those steamy looks, and that great tight uniform, that you're a dead fish??"

Still dripping wet, and grumbling, I stomped over to the bed and sorted through the rest of Laroche's offerings. If I have to climb out the window, I was leaving ASAP. Bit weird that he had not said anything, and I was expecting an explosion at any moment.

He cleared his throat.

"I suggest you calm yourself or you'll end up in restraints, You are in danger of hysterics."

"Oh no-- YOU are in danger of hysterics-- MINE!"

"Obviously, you are in no fit condition to hold a rational conversation."

"Ya think??"

I could hear him sorting through the change I left on the stand and shot him a threatening glance. He was examining the quarters and dimes like they were diamonds.

"Leave my stuff alone!"

Back I stomped, but he shot out an arm-- not even looking up-- and a hand that pretty much said 'stop'. I stopped, and grabbed for the coin in his other hand, but he swiveled a bit to keep it out of range. And then the photo again.

The day before-- which was actually 200 years in the future-- one of my friends had given me a copy of a photograph-- a bunch of us at a museum picnic. I had shoved it in a pocket and forgot about it, so by now, it had gotten a bit creased and wet from my adventures in the mud and rain.

I must have really looked like a lunatic by now-- hair a mess, eyes wide, teeth grit-- and this guy was as cool as ever. He studied the picture, looked at me, and then the pic again.

"Uncanny. And no brush strokes. I must have the name of your artist."

"KODAK!"

I grabbed for the thing, he pulled it away, it ripped in half-- like my patience.

Bang bang bang-- well, at least SOMEONE had the decency to knock!

"Captain Javert, you are required immediately at the wall."

He whirled away from me, still holding his torn half of the photo. Unlocked door, and stepped out.

"I will be back after you've had time to regain your senses." Poof! Gone. And I heard him turn the key behind him.

I was livid. I ran to the door, jiggled the latch and hammered.

"Don't you DARE lock me in-- Javert!!!" Too late, he was gone. "Oh, you're in trouble now, buddy!! I'm going straight to the embassy, don't think I won't--- you'll be lucky if they only FIRE you! Napoleon'll hear of this!!"

No sense screaming about it-- not even the doctor was there to hear. I threw the robe aside and started to get dressed in my own things-- they were still damp but dry enough. I was getting out of there somehow-- and fast.


	9. Chapter 9

Toulonacy 9

As far as I was concerned, Toulon Prison might as well have been the Pentagon or Disneyland-- without a map, I'd never find the exit. And since I was locked in, that was a moot point. I dressed and collected my things off the shaving stand--- which reminded me to be angry. I had half a photo, and I wasn't even in it.

"Who does he think he is? And what's wrong with him-- am I even under arrest?? He said he knew I wasn't a spy-- what, does he harass random visitors for amusement? This guy seriously needs a hobby."

Once all my coins, pins, buttons, scraps and receipts were shoved back into their proper place, I looked for a window. I knew I'd gone up one flight of stairs, so I was prepared to make a rope of sheets if necessary. I pulled back the window drapes and found bars between me and the glass.

"This guy is a FREAK!"

But he had a nice view.

As near as I could tell, it looked like a sheer drop down the wall maybe 3 stories, and then a short outcrop of tiled roof, and--- what was the point?? Even if I could open the window-- which I didn't try--- squeak through the bars--- which I suspected I couldn't--- and make a long enough rope (my luck the sheets would be satin, and ZIP! I'd slip straight down at 90 miles an hour to an embarrassing and messy death-- )--- it was broad daylight and I suspected someone might notice me. Prisons were like that-- anybody could get in, but just try getting out.

I started singing Hotel California for some reason just then.

"Okay, ditch the window, try the door." Jiggle- still locked.

"Hello?" I actually knocked. Silence. I knocked harder. Loud silence. "Help!My throat!---" raspy coughing noises. "Somebody--- help, I cant breathe!"---- more coughing, pounding lower on the door now, (losing consciousness). "Choking--- Heimlich manovuer--- help..me.."

I pounded on floor. "Gasp!...somebody...help me.....Rosebud."

Nothing. Crickets chirping. Dead air. Test pattern. Son of a--

"Not even a guard, thats appalling." I sat propped up against the door, disgusted. "Looks like I used up my get-out-of-jail-free cards."

A glance to my left and the door hinge caught my eye. Maybe I could knock the pins loose! I'd have to find something hard to hit them with-- Javert's head came to mind-- but it was worth a try. How much time did I have-- how soon would he be back? If he was waiting for me to cool down, he'd be gone til Christmas. I started rummaging around the room, leaving the fireplace andirons for a last resort. I felt like a contestant on the Crystal Maze, without the harmonica, thank goodness.

It wasn't my intention to make a mess, and rooting through drawers and the clothes cupboard I really did my best to leave shirts, linens, whatever, in some order. Well, at least I closed everything as I went.

"A pistol butt, sword hilt-- anything." I started taking inventory of things I found that didn't fit the bill. "Book of poetry? How sweet.... sash... box of neck stocks, cravat.... boot hooks.. aiguilettes? ....old bars. Thats so sentimental! He saved his old rank insignia! Lap desk, woolen stockings, cotton stockings, box of drawing pens, key--- key? KEY!!"

Why anyone buries a key in a chest, who can say? I dared to hope it was a spare for the room, and scooping everything else back into the trunk, I ran to try out my latest find. Fumbling, cursing, trying to turn the lock-- wrong key! Then-- clang!

Fussing with the wrong key caused the right key-- foolishly left in the door on the other side-- to fall out.

"This is too easy!"

I tried looking under the door, and was reminded that the exact same scenario-- nearly-- had happened once before. All I needed now was something to slide the key to me!

"Box of drawing pens!"

Back to the trunk, and soon I was armed with my chopsticks. A Word of Caution-- if you ever find yourself in a similar position, remain calm! Too much enthusiasm will cause you to send the object of desire-- a key in this case-- skittering across the floor and out of reach. Slowly and steadily, I ran one of the pens along the floor, the length of the door. Thank goodness said key did not bounce far. As soon as I felt it, I slipped the second pen under the door and gradually coaxed it toward me.

Success!!--- followed by Happy-Dance, and a bit of maniacal laughter thrown in for fun. I unlocked the door and stepped merrily out to freedom! Well, freedom from the bedroom-- I was still a long way from total liberty!

I must have paused in that open doorway a good minute or more. There was the tub, of which I had mixed memories. I studied the Captains room for what I knew would be the last time, and felt myself getting a bit sad all the same.

"Another time-- literally-- maybe another place..or another life .." I mused about the fellow who I hadn't known for 24 hrs yet, and how I still felt a weird-- possibly kinky- attraction to him. What was it? Tall, dark, handsome--- a stick-in-the-mud, arrogant, humorless-- well, not entirely-- There was an elegance about him-- and something just a little tragic in those dark, haunted eyes. What hidden passions burnt behind that plaster-cast statue of an ideal officer? No denying it-- dead fish or not I would kiss him again..but only if mutually agreeable-- and WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING?? If I stood there any longer, I'd have the pleasure of his company again-- and not in a good way. Oh, I was inches away from writing him a good bye note!!

"My Dear Captain Javert, By the time you read this I will be very, very gone. It would have never worked between the two of us, but it would have been perfectly delightful trying. I love you, I love you-- good bye." Guaranteed to give him nightmares for weeks

I slammed the bedroom door, effectively cutting off the sappy romantic daydreams. Hanging around was not an option--- I still had to get out of the prison. I stuck the key back in the lock, turned it and paused. Javert would know I had flown the coop the moment he opened that door, so why not buy a few more minutes? Besides, I owed him one, for barging in on me, in the tub.

Assured the room was locked, I took the key, and kicked it under the door and into the room where-- Clang!-- it hit the tub. That should give me a decent headstart.

The office door was open, and the hallway outside, empty.

"Well, that's nerve! I'm not even worth ONE guard?"

I listened for footsteps or voices, and as soon as I knew the coast was clear, I made my move.


	10. Chapter 10

Toulonacy 10

Since I had landed in 18th-- (or 19th?) century France via the lightning express, chances were good I would have to make my exit in similar fashion. It doesn't always work that way, but at least it was something to hope for. My first excursion across time lasted a week, but I left via the same bridge that brought me. However, the details would have to take care of themselves. I had a more pressing problem at the moment.

I was down the stairs and part way down a hall before I heard anyone. Voices-- and one of them was Javert!

Thank God for alcoves, dank and dusty as they may be-- I darted into one under some stairs and crouched in the dark. The Captain and three men turned a corner and were coming down the hall in my direction. And I had to sneeze!

"I want both of them brought to the administration office." the commander barked. "The wounds are superficial, and as soon as Laroche is done with them, I want them delivered, do you understand?"

"Yessir."

I held my nose and thought of cows-- it really does keep me from sneezing.

"Carrere, you will provide their records. And I will speak to the guards as well, see to it immediately. They let things go too far--- I will not stand for such careless disregard among my men---"

Off they marched, passing me hardly a few feet away. Whatever had called Javert away from our discussion was now his focus. They continued to another corridor, and were gone. I couldn't tell if the Captain went back to his rooms, or directly to 'administration' to deal with his problems. Either way, I was getting nowhere in hiding.

Out again-- and one healthy sneeze later, I was making my way down passages away from the barracks and offices. I passed a few non-descript civilian personnel who hardly glanced at me-- but knew it was probably a good idea to find some means of disguise, anyway. And that came as I neared a rear courtyard.

Fresh air! Or nearly.

There were carts and wagons-- some drawn by animals, some by people, filling the yard, and civilians-- farmers maybe?-- and soldiers with muskets walking around. "I must be near the kitchens," I figured-- supplies coming in, getting unloaded, carried to store rooms-- There was a gate on the far side of the yard, with 2 or 3 guards opening and closing it as required. Perfect! All I had to do is get on one of those wagons..

Near the open archway where I stood there was an anteroom-- and through that I saw some kind of work room. That didn't matter-- the anteroom had several coats and smocks on pegs, with a couple of hats. Perfect again! I tried to find the least offense-smelling smock-- as big as a tent, it turned out-- and threw it on. I plopped a hat on my head and shuffled into the yard. Almost home free!!

"You!"

I froze and winced. A solder was calling to me.

"Help unload this, boy!"

Close one!

I nodded, and carried a few dusty sacks from a cart to a hallway.

"Go on, get this cart out of here!"

The moment the last sack was unloaded, a soldier demanded the driver move on.

"Here goes nothing." I sniffed and hopped up on the back of the empty wagon. I slouched like a sack of meal, my legs dangling over the edge, as the old driver--- oblivious to me--- headed his ox for the gate. I held my breath as we creaked along-- and not just because of the air.

The gate was opened, and we bumped along through the mud and ruts. Almost there.

Then-- freedom!! The soldiers closed the gate behind us and I could not resist a salute.

There was the prison in its full and horrible glory, slowly getting smaller as we creaked and rattled along. And I had escaped!! I felt giddy-- like I pulled a fast one or something-- well, I guess I had! Too bad I didnt leave on better terms.....

Naturally, I started to think of what might be happening up in those walls. When Javert would get back to his quarters and find no key. He might wonder if he took it, or lost it-- and if he would call to me and what he'd think when I didn't reply.

"Mademoiselle, you act like a child. You shall have to explain yourself sooner or later."

"It would be a lot later than you think, Javert." Wasn't there something in that book of Hugo's? Didn't this guy hunt somebody for years? -- Stop thinking about that!!-- I was pretty sure it was a convict, not some lunatic woman.. .. What, I saw the movie maybe once, as a kid? Geez! I always worried about doing something by mistake that would change the course of history--- now I was thinking that I might have altered a work of fiction!

"Get a grip", I told myself. "You won't be around long enough to see the look on his face...."

"Break it down!" I could almost hear him giving the order. Or would he call a locksmith? And then, after a careful search, turning up the key and no me--- and something told me he wouldn't just give up, simply as a matter of principle. It was bound to gall him! An insult-- a challenge to his authority-- a slur against that manly pride of his. Okay, I started to feel bad--- but not enough to go back and patch things up. He'd have to live with the indignity-- after all, what could he do?

He could call out the guards. Have the prison searched. Question people. Hell, I was thinking too much! There was no way they could figure out how I got out of there--- they didn't count the people who came in with each cart, did they?

"48 in today, sir, with supplies. 25 carts, with drivers and helpers. And a count of....25 carts out and....49 people??

Heads would roll.

I rode in the wagon to the top of a hill, and jumped out as we hit a bump, so the driver would be none the wiser. I think I heard him snoring, anyway, I lost my footing, dropped and rolled into the grass.

I stayed there awhile, looking at the stony silhouette of Toulon prison in the distance, smiling and thinking of Captain Javert.


	11. Chapter 11

Toulonacy 11

I was beat!! --- as in dog-tired, exhausted, and bushed.

The sleep-- you could call it that! - stolen in D cell, hours before, was anything but restful. Oh yes, the soak in the tub had been relaxing-- up to a certain point-- but I was yawning, out in the grass, under the sun. If I could just find someplace suitable for a catnap--

What were the options? Haystacks in the distance. A farm, a barn or further off the road in the high grass? That sounded fine with me-- farms, barns-- even haystacks-- ran the risk of more human contact, and the fewer people who saw me, the better. I didn't need anyone to tip off the authorities, IF the authorities came calling..

I strolled a few feet down the hill, and sprawled out in my over-sized smock, pulling the hat over my eyes. Ah! Wonderful! All I needed was a thunder storm and I was home free..

Or so I thought..

Who knows how long I slept, but the hat got pushed back as I lay there, and a plunk of a raindrop on the nose woke me up. Just a brief shower, no thunder and it was now late afternoon. Maybe I would make my way to a farm-- or even back to the city-- for a roof and whatever food I could scrounge. I was nearly back to the road as the shower passed, when I heard horses.

Soldiers! Mounted troops-- 4 of 'em-- headed along the road away from the prison.

"Crap!"

"Wait, hang on-- get a hold of yourself! What sort of egocentric paranoid runaway imagines everyone is looking for them?" Well, if they were egocentric and paranoid-- all of em! There was only a few seconds to make a decision-- I could run as fast as possible and look like an escapee-- even if these people weren't after me, I'd get their attention, and that was bad. Or, if I walked right up to them with nothing to hide, just strolling down the road, I'd be above suspicion. Okay, Plan B.

By the time they reached me, I was walking along, hands in pockets, and eyes down. I stepped aside, to let the riders have the road. No problem! Hardly got a glance. But now I was headed toward the city again. I'd make it up as I go along, for the time being.

The horses grew distant, and my pace picked up. I speed walked, I trotted-- it seemed like a good idea now to lose myself in a city full of people than to stand out in the road alone. I started to think I could do anything!

Thoughts of Captain Javert came to mind again. Tall, slender, smashing uniform--- we'd both be in Toulon, but never any closer. Pity.

"I want the prisoner found." There's me being an egocentric paranoid again, picturing the irate Captain of the Guard stamping his foot and giving orders. Heck, I knew he had plenty better to do than trouble himself over me! Still. "She must be found and brought back immediately, do I make myself clear? I'll never rest until I gaze into those blue eyes again. And I AM NOT A LOUSY KISSER!!" Told you I was egocentric..

It started to make sense, hiding in the city, maybe even someplace public-- they'd be looking for me in out of the way places, presumably hiding, if anyone went looking at all.

Another party of soldiers was nearing, maybe half a dozen on foot. No problem. I walked along, as average as you please-- even whistling now, eyes forward. What were the chances that any of these men had seen me the night before? I should have such luck with the lottery.

I was spotted-- or guess I was, as soon as I heard "Wait a minute, you!"

No thanks! Maybe they just wanted directions, but I didnt even look back-- off like a shot, and someone gave the order to stop me.

I'll admit I'm no athlete, but obviously decent with short sprints. I had a bit of a head start, and guys running with muskets and cartridge belts had a slight disadvantage.

"Just don't shoot, just don't shoot!"

Oh, I would love to say I gave them the slip-- that they were no match for me ducking and diving down alleyways and doubling back. Life should be an Indiana Jones film at times like this-- but I'm here to tell you, it isn't. The soldiers in pursuit alerted others, and even the locals tried blocking my way.

"Is it too much to ask for one stray bolt of lightning???"

Somewhere between the docks, and stands of produce, I was nabbed. And the whole episode happened because one soldier thought he recognized me and I ran. Stupid, stupid, STUPID!!

Pointless to argue and struggle-- but I did anyway. I lost my hat-- whose ever hat it was-- and squirmed out of the borrowed smock in an effort to escape-- which didn't work.

I was finally informed that I would have to be detained. It sounds much nicer than it is, detained. Like your flights delayed, or your credit card isnt going through at check out--- harmless, a moment's inconvenience, perhaps a slight embarrassment. I somehow doubted Walmart had ever seen the likes of a Javert. "Clean up in aisle three. Immediately. Do I make myself clear?"

Like it or not, I was returning to the prison. And what had my break gotten me? Fresh air, exercise, a nap. On the down side, I had probably annoyed the Captain, and he had not been so easy to deal with in a good mood. The situation was sticky when I left-- now I was totally stuck.

For not being a bona fide criminal, I had still lied, argued, defied, snuck around, run away, escaped and did a bit of mischief on the way out-- but at least I hadnt confessed. No doubt I'd be slapped in irons, probably tossed back in D and brought to trial. All for want of a storm.

A thunderstorm, that is. There was bound to be a storm of another sort when Javert saw me.

And that was IF Javert wanted to speak to me again. Or see me at all. Or hear my name.... outside of a firing squad.

"The Military Tribunal, having found Kathleen Gisbourne guilty of innumerable crimes against the citizens and state of the Republic of France, as well as slanderous claims against the person of myself, Captain Javert, not to mention the cost of a perfectly good door, sentences said prisoner to death." He could read a death sentence with a certain elegant gloat. "Blindfold?" And miss a chance at seeing you smile when the order to fire is given? Never! "Any last requests?"

I wouldnt go there, if I were you, Captain....


	12. Chapter 12

Toulonacy 12

I needn't have worried-- practically all my worst fears were realized.

Some thoughtful soul in a uniform took the liberty of delivering word of my capture to the prison, ahead of arrival. Not sure how the news was received, but I found my manacles waiting when we got there. Just like home.

"Alright! You win! I give up! I'm caught, fair and square." Sure, I was stating the obvious, but it made me feel better. "Bring me to trial, lock me up, take away my library card-- do whatever it is you people do to a dangerous rabid criminal--- but Im begging you, please! For the love of God! Just dont take me to Captain Javert!!"

Worked like a charm. Knew it would. And one of the guards took particular delight in informing me, "That's just where youll go."

At this point, you may be wondering, for all the ups and downs and dirty turns that went on between the Captain and me, why did I want to go back? I guess deep down inside I had the desire-- maybe even the need-- to lay all the cards on the table and see which one made him blink. He was after the truth, and saw a glimmer of it when I was in the tub-- and NO I dont mean ME, I meant the 21st century miscellany he had poked through before I could stop him. And I wanted the rest of my photo back.

Yes, I wanted to stare at him in all of his presumed hotness and let him read me the riot act until I didn't like him anymore. And once I was over him, I could get on with getting on--- back home, no regrets.

Little time was wasted in marching back down the halls, up the stairs and once again to the private office of Captain Javert.

Except, he wasnt there.

I was pushed back onto the same bench used on my last visit, but this time, my ankles were chained to it. DUH!-- like I couldn't drag a bench. True, it would make another escape attempt clumsy and embarrassing, but I was done with prison breaks. Time to face the music.

The guards retreated to the hallway, where I imagined this time they were actually standing guard. I glanced around the room, where candles and lamps were already lit. The sun was going down but it had gotten cloudy enough to make candles necessary.

SLAM!!

Ah, the Captain had arrived.

I kept my eyes lowered, effecting the proper attitude of shame and contrition. I saw his boots pass in front of me-- the same sultry, slow, stalking slink that made me melt. What was with this guy?? I should want to be miles-- centuries-- away, but Lordy, he was just so damn captivating!!

He took his time, crossed to the other side of the room, and stopped. Only now did I raise my gaze far enough, to see him standing-- arms crossed, of course-- scowling at me.

"I imagine you think yourself clever." Scary cool, calm, even tone.

"Not any more." I admitted.

"The trick with the lock was amusing. Surely you didnt think youd get away?"

But I had-- and I would still be away if it wasn't for my own stupidity. I just shook my head.

"I have a fair amount of business to conduct every day, and as diverting as your presence has proven, it is a distraction I could well do without. I ask one simple thing of you, and you continually avoid the matter with your lies and parlor theatrics. No more."

Well, at least we could agree on that point.

"Empty your pockets on the table."

I looked at him as sheepishly as I dared.

"I'm chained to the bench."

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

"Really? You havent wriggled your way free yet? Guard!"

Enter one guard.

"Free her legs."

Done. Exit one guard.

It was ridiculous to refuse. He'd already seen the incriminating evidence so what was to be gained by stalling? I walked to the table and dumped out all my change, papers, miscellany and lint. And a key. I had inadvertently tucked that wrong key in my pocket earlier, and I was embarrassed to think he would assume I took it deliberately. He approached, but still remained a step away. I suppose my previous dive over the table had left a scar.

"You will explain. Those are meant to be coins?"

"Official legal tender of the United States of America." I sighed. Still couldnt look him in the eye.

"And they are supposedly marked with dates? This morning, I read them. You might have made these yourself."

I looked at him then, and giggled.

"How would I do that? Or why? These are dimes, pennies-- quarters."

"I have never seen coin of this type. It doesn't even make the correct sound."

"Because they are made of a combination of metals you don't recognize." I was relaxing-- or was I giving up? Maybe this would be easier then I thought. His curiosity getting the better of him, he crossed to the table, to pick up a few and toss then lightly in his hand.

"Peculiar." Again a study of dates and inscriptions. "Who are these people?"

"George Washington on the big one. He's still alive now, I think." I still wasn't sure of the present date. "One of the others is Abraham Lincoln-- American President during the Civil War, in the 1860s. Thomas Jefferson on the nickel-"

"I know of him."

"Presidents, mainly. Our paper money has other people, too."

I felt awkward, but I cant even begin to imagine how he felt. Probably thought it was all some bizarre game..... He was not satisfied with the coins and set them down, for a button.

"And this a button? Made of what?"

"Plastic."

I slid the key toward him.

"I didn't steal it-- not intentionally."

He looked at the other items, ignoring the key, and shook his head. Those deep brown eyes raised, and locked on my own.

"Mademoiselle, who are you?"


	13. Chapter 13

Toulonacy 13

I melted-- and froze at the same time. What a mess.

There was no denying something about this man kept me a prisoner. We would have never met if it wasn't for my unfortunate and unnatural tendency for time-jumping, but that was the very thing that would keep us separate.

There was something in those eyes now-- not demanding, nor menacing-- not even official -- just a desire for the truth. I sighed and returned to the bench. I might as well be in chains, I was trapped and couldnt even look at him.

"I wanted to tell you, really. The situation is so unique-- so impossible-- you'd think I was crazy and cart me off to the asylum."

"Nothing is written in stone."

There was a soft tone of humor in his voice, and I looked up, surprised to see a corner of his mouth slightly smiling.

Spit it out-- all in one breath-- and get it over with!

"I come from someplace 200 years away. And I swear to you, Captain, I am not lying! I'm done lying to you."

"200 years? How is that even possible?"

"Oh, believe me, I wish I knew. A few years ago-- that is, in my time-- because of a maniac in the 12th century, I was pulled back to another place out of sync by 800 years. Against my will-- I was there for days before I believed it. After I finally got home, it started happening at random. It's like-- whatever frame keeps us all in place, in our normal time, was broken for me."

He was quiet for a moment, and took a seat at the table, still reading cash register receipts and a small flyer for some local charity event.

"You understand, though I have never seen these things before, such writing, such color, I cannot.... just believe it."

"I know. And now you can maybe see my dilemma? That's all the proof I have to show you." That and maybe the zipper on my jeans, but I wasnt going to demonstrate that now. "And after all the lies I've been stupid or desperate enough to tell, you have every reason not to believe me."

All I heard was the hiss of the lamps and flames, and then a distant roll of thunder so faint I hardly noticed. He wasn't really looking at the articles now-- he was just staring into space.

"Look, I know you're a man of logic and perception." I'd learned that much and had been mulling over memories of Cliffs Notes here and there, and an old black and white film. I seemed to recall his fictional self had very distinct traits-- but how did they compare to the man in front of me, flesh and blood? The observation gained his attention.

"How do you know anything about me?"

"History books." I stretched the truth. "We have books, devices and machines that record and produce facts from all periods of time. The Napoleonic Wars was always one of my favorite subjects."

A hand reached into his uniform coat and he presented his torn half of my photo.

"And these things. What are they?"

I pulled my bench to the table, dragging the chains that were still fastened to it. Pictured were my friends Jen and Dave-- and me of course-- and behind us, cars in the museum parking lot. Well, thats certainly a better argument than I could have come up with. A picture DOES speak a thousand words.

A tricky subject, but one taken with patience and sympathy, as I attempted to explain a future history of horseless transportation. The matter of photography was also discussed in brief. And even when I was done I felt he hadnt believed a word of it.

"Are there others who visit different times-- assuming what you say is true?"

"I don't know. Someone---" I hesitated mentioning Gisbourne. "Someone who was pulled away like I was, maybe. I mean, imagine a doorway that appears in front of you suddenly, for no reason and when you walk through it, you are in ancient Rome, or Greece-- or in the middle of the Thirty Years War----"

"It is impossible." he concluded. "But my ability or willingness to believe something does not make you a liar, particularly. I feel you believe what you say. But what happens to you now?"

"I'll go back. When the chance comes." Now the sound of an approaching storm caught my ear. "Soon." There was hope!

"You were right. If you had told me any of it before now---" he pointed to the table. "---before this, I would have had you sent away. Do you then represent the future of womankind?" Again, a bit of a playful smirk and I laughed.

"Me? Not hardly. The world has grown so much, since now-- and people have gone in all directions--- good and bad. We travel in space, we've walked on the moon, and we've refined new and horrible ways to destroy thousands of lives with a push of a button. It isn't all terrible, though. There are wonderful and beautiful things, too-- we live longer, medicine has put an end to many diseases and we can travel across the ocean in a matter of hours, not weeks. But as far as me representing anything, I wouldn't want to wish that on anyone! We are all individuals, with separate dreams and desires.. " Looking into those dark eyes of his, the subject of desire was frst in my thoughts. I had to look away. "I suppose I'm a bit of a shock to the system."

Again, he gave a rather charming lopsided smirk.

"I rarely engage in any social contact at all, and women are not among my acquaintances." That seemed a little sad to me, but it was his life. "I am ill equipped to draw much of a comparison, but feel safe in observing you are certainly different than anyone I have met, which is not entirely a compliment."

"I understand. I've put you through alot of trouble." I smiled back at him. "For what its worth, I'm sorry. Really."

He turned suddenly, and walked to the window. There was a flash of lightning through the drapes, and started wriggling in my seat. This could be my ticket out!

A safe distance off, crossing his arms again, he scrutinized me.

"I am curious, about your behavior last night."

"Last night?" Geez, was it just last night I had arrived?

"Yes. Whatever possessed you to a kiss a man by force?"


	14. Chapter 14

Toulonacy 14

What the heck???

There we were, moments ago discussing things as foreign to him as automobiles and time travel, and now he was asking me why I kissed him??

"Sometimes my sense of judgment after a change in time can be a little wonky. Off balance." He nodded, and waited for more. "I still think like I'm back home---- oh, not that I go around grabbing men at random and kissing them! Hell, no! You can get arrested for that sorta thing."

"Here, as well."

"Yeh, I guess that did land me in jail for the night.... I suppose there's the idea that I will never pass this way again-- and with skipping through time, thats kinda how it is. See, odd things will act as a catalyst to send me somewhere. I think it was this vest, this time."

"Very becoming, by the way." I heard the sarcasm.

"Anyway, since I wasnt going to see you again---" I stood up and started collecting my things, making it easier to talk if I didn't look at him. "If you really want to know, Captain, I think youre hot." I giggled-- the rising storm made me giddy, thinking Id hitch a ride.

"Hot." he repeated.

"You know-- sexy, handsome--" I was babbling now. The 'you-can't-catch-me' idea works particularly well for speech, too-- saying things you'd never dream of saying, if departure wasn't guaranteed, immediate and permanent. Like telling your co-workers and boss what you really think of them, after you hit the lottery. Rain started hitting the window now, and I looked at him. He was glancing out through the drapes, as if not even a part of this discussion. I cleared off the table quickly, stuffed everything away, and decided to through caution to the wind. What was there to lose?

"When I first saw you, I thought you were the most gorgeous thing Id ever seen."

"And you just said you were done with telling lies."

"Hey, Im serious." Maybe it was my tone but something made him look in my direction. I held out my wrists with a timid grin. "Ya think I could get these off now? Maybe I could show you real proof about this time traveling stuff."

He called for the guard again, who came in, followed orders, and once more departed. Javert approached, and I snuck possibly my last look at that lovely uniform...

"You are definitely different than anyone I've ever met, too." I told him while rubbing my wrists. "And no matter what you think of me once I'm gone, I'm not likely to forget you. 24 hours is just 24 hours, sure-- but I'm sorry things couldnt have been a bit different."

"You flatter us both, Mademoiselle."

Lame attempt on his part, to shelve the subject. For all his posturing and authority, I suddenly got the impression he was afraid of women! Well, at least me. And probably with good reason.

"Whatever. Go on and think me terrible, but I tried for that kiss because I really wanted to. I was provoked, and again, Im sorry if I ruined your night."

He cleared his throat, and looked down his nose at me.

"And where is this proof you planned to produce?"

"Outside. Which way to the roof?"

"Are you mad?"

"You're asking me that, now? What do you think?"

"There's a storm, in case you can't hear it."

"Please, Javert. Youll see. I swear!"

He frowned, and then gestured to a door. It was a store room, and through this, a second door, with steps to the roof. He followed me at a quicker pace now, since I was scrambling like Igor for Frankenstien. Can't waste a perfectly good electrical storm!

"Wait--"

I reached the landing and threw open the door. Rain began blowing in, getting us both quickly soaked. I felt a sudden pain in my arm-- Javert had grabbed me and pulled me back.

"What becomes of me?"

"What?"

"Your history books-- do they say what becomes of me?"

The rain was lashing us hard by now, stinging our faces and with the almost constant thunder we had to shout to be heard.

"You become a police inspector, in Paris I think!" That's about all I could remember. Chief Inspector Javert. But there was a musical, too, and Victor Hugo's book. "-- And they even write books and songs about you!"

I was laughing now-- which seemed quite ridiculous, considering the danger I was putting us both in. I was actually glad to remember anything!

"Please, let go Javert! You'll see I'm telling the truth!"

He released my arm, and I started out onto the roof--- but just as suddenly he reached out and grabbed me again.

He yanked me back inside, pushed me against the wall and without a word of warning, kissed me.

I mean--- were talking SERIOUS-- hard, passionate and long! I was speechless-- obviously-- This was way outta left field and after a few seconds of shock, I threw my arms around him and kissed back. Delicious--- wonderful---Unbelievable!---

If there was ever an argument for missing your ride home, THIS was it!

A breathless moment followed-- we looked at each other, dripping wet and lost for words, and he then let me go.

A few steps away, I turned for one last look--- and with a roar of thinder, a blinding flash stabbed my eyes.

Crash!!

I was home. Safe, warm, home.

Crumpled on the second floor landing, the sounds of a late summer storm rolling away, off in the distance. I pulled myself up and sat on the stairs, but something in my pocket poked me--- the key! I had taken it by mistake in my rush-- it would be a cherished keepsake now,

I was almost disappointed to be back.

And I imagined a dim point in time, centuries before, where a man in a Captain's uniform stood in a doorway on a stormy night, staring across an empty roof---- with half a photograph in his hand.


End file.
